


after

by minachandler



Series: pretty canaries [65]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Coital Cuddling, Spooning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 07:33:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13336434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minachandler/pseuds/minachandler
Summary: Rip and Sara start to realise that maybe there is an after for both of them.





	after

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SmilinStar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmilinStar/gifts).



> So I came across this line from another show a while ago - "I want there to be an after for you". (I tangentially know Kastle pretty well even though I've never watched it.) And, I don't know, it kind of stayed with me. And then I organised this winter fic swap with my writing squad (find us on tumblr at @minaswritingsquad) and my recipient was really open with prompts and wanted Time Canary, and this kind of happened. I like to think this happened between the end of season 1 and the beginning of season 2.

The slow, steady beat of Rip’s heart beneath Sara’s palm has a surprisingly calming effect on her as she wriggles a little to get more comfortable. She feels him exhale softly, his breath a warm, gentle puff of air that fans just above her temple, making a few strands of hair fall over her eyes.

There’s silence, as there has been for the last five minutes, but it’s the comfortable kind. And it’s needed, really, after the whirlwind of the last half hour, when emotions ran so high that neither of them could take toeing that carefully drawn line in the sand a second longer and Sara finally gave into the longing that had long since burned in her heart for him. His bed is unexpectedly cosy, too, and he’s still half-clothed. And, sure, Sara’s only in her underwear, but it’s warm under the blankets and comforter, so when Sara feels Rip’s eyes on her as he pushes her hair out of the way, she doesn’t feel nearly as vulnerable as she thought she would.

Still, she can’t help but be nervous when her eyes meet his. He doesn’t say anything, though, just continuing to gaze at her so intensely that she feels her cheeks begin to heat up.

“So are we gonna talk about it?” Sara says eventually, breaking the thick silence, and it’s far easier to say something than she anticipated it would be, kind of like jumping from a building and landing right, so that falling doesn’t seem so bad. And when her fingers find his jaw he all but melts at her touch. After a second, though, Rip raises his eyebrows, looking uncertain for the first time.

“That depends on if you think we need to.”

She chuckles lightly. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. Talking isn’t exactly my strong suit. But this… us… it’s -”

“Complicated?” Rip suggests.

“Yeah. I mean - the ship’s empty this time, sure, but how many times are the team going to buy that I just wasn’t in the mood for a drink during the first New Year’s Eve of Prohibition?”

“Honestly, I’m surprised you’re still here,” Rip says, clearly without thinking, and the words sting more than Sara anticipates. She tries not to show it, but it’s hard to put up a wall now, when he’s this close to her. Still, Rip seems to get that he’s misspoken.

“Miss Lance…” he says, and then he clears his throat and amends, “ _Sara_ … I - was under the impression that you -”

Sara shakes her head in exasperation. “Really, Rip?”

He raises his eyebrows. “I haven’t even said what I wanted to say.”

“I can take a good guess. You know I have a fickle heart -”

“I never said that,” Rip objects.

“- and because of that, I’m just gonna love you and leave you?” she blurts out before she can stop herself, and it’s as Rip’s eyes widen that she realises what she’s just said. And he’s giving her this look, with his eyes softening a bit and his head tilted a little to one side, that tells her that it’s okay. She can take it back.

But she doesn’t.

And after a moment he says quietly, “I can think of plenty of things to say about your heart. None of which involve the word ‘fickle’.”

She raises her eyebrows and regards him questioningly. “Like what?”

“Like how it’s soft and kind and loving… just never towards yourself.”

“Aw, and here was me thinking you’d forgotten how to be romantic,” Sara teases. But her smile fades after a second and she adds, “I do get it, though.”

“Get what?”

Sara traces absentmindedly on his bare chest, her fingertips pressing a firm figure-eight just above his heart. “I get that when you’ve been alone so long… that anything else doesn’t feel right. You get so used to that feeling that it - it feels almost - normal. Like… when you’re starved of something so long -  _anything_  that makes that hunger go away seems like enough.”

With her hand moving to his wrist, feeling gently until she finds his throbbing pulse, she can practically hear his brain ticking as he takes in what she says.

“What are you trying to say?” says Rip eventually. “And please don’t say that I deserve better -”

“Rip -”

“- because that’s supposed to be my line,” he says, and he surprises her with a kiss. She kisses him back after a second, feeling his fingers thread through her hair.

“You do, though,” Sara says eventually when they come up for air. “I’m an assassin. It’s why you recruited me.”

“No, I recruited you because -”

“I was a nobody,” Sara says, deadpan, but she ruins it by smiling after a few seconds. To her surprise, though, Rip sighs and shakes his head.

“You were always remembered as the Canary. That’s your legacy. Which would have been unchanged by any subsequent time travelling adventures. But while there is truth in what you said… you were the one who chose to stay. And I was glad, because… because I thought you were meant for greater things. Better things. Better than me.”

She reaches down, finds his free hand. “Maybe we both need to stop with whole the self-deprecation thing, then.”

Rip inhales slowly, deeply. “That would be a good start. But in the meantime…”

“We can take things slow,” Sara decides before he can say anything. “And we should totally take advantage of being alone on the Waverider while we can.”

Letting go of his hand, she gets out from under the covers, finding his shirt and pulling it on, not bothering with the buttons, adjusting the waistband of her panties.

“I must admit, Miss Lance,” Rip says, “that is a good look on you.”

Sara bursts out laughing. “I never thought the day would come when you would be flirting with me.  _Captain_.”

And she’s maybe heard him chuckle twice the whole time she’s known him, but at this he laughs back. It’s not as full-blown as her laugh, not by a mile, but his smile meets his eyes, which are sparkling with warmth, and his whole face lights up as he sits up in bed.

“I’m just gonna use your bathroom, Rip. Be right back.”

He leans forward, mouth slightly parted, and she’s not sure if he wants to say something or if he wants to kiss her. She waits, and in the end he does neither, instead squeezing her hand. Sara squeezes back, because she gets it - they’re not there yet, and that’s okay.

And when she comes back she finds him on his feet, having pulled on a t-shirt and pants, pouring scotch into two glasses.

“Join me for a drink?” he says, offering a glass to her.

Sara smiles, making her way over to him and sitting on the bed. “After everything we’ve been through… do you really need to ask?”

She accepts the glass, and Rip puts down the decanter on the bedside cabinet and picks up his own drink, lifting his glass and inclining his head towards her. Before he can raise it to his lips, though, Sara grabs his wrist and stops him, then takes a fistful of his t-shirt so she can pull him towards her for a kiss.

“Happy New Year, Sara,” he says softly, and they clink their glasses together gently and both down their drinks.

“Yeah?” she says. “I mean… are you happy?”

“I am now,” he answers. “After - I don’t know.”

Her next words come out unexpectedly as a whisper. “I’m glad, though.”

“As am I,” Rip says, and Sara shakes her head.

“No, I mean, I’m glad for all of it. You being happy… and you actually feeling like you have an after. Because you deserve one. Even if you’re not sure what will come next.”

“I think I’m sure of one thing.”

Sara gets to her feet, then tiptoes so her gaze is level with his, and for a second the tip of her nose brushes against his.

“You’re gonna say something ultra cheesy now, aren’t you?”

They’re so close now that Sara can feel the huff of Rip’s faint chuckle on her cheek as he considers. She’s still surprised by his answer, though.

“I don’t think so,” he says as he moves to refill his glass. “I was going to say - I’m sure my… after, whatever it is, will be interesting at the very least. With this team of misfits who wreak havoc everywhere -”

“You say that like you aren’t one of those misfits,” Sara says laughingly, nabbing his glass from him and handing him her empty one, taking a sip of his scotch. “Come on, Rip. You’re as much of a legend as any of us.”

“You’re not the one who will be bailing the team out of jail when they inevitably start a fight at whatever lavish New Year’s Eve party they decided to gatecrash.”

“ _I will take that as my cue to interrupt your conversation, Captain._ ”

Rip clears his throat and sets down the empty glass. “Yes, Gideon?” he says, straightening his clothes and suddenly looking nervous.

“Hang on,” Sara says, raising her eyebrows, “Gideon, are you saying that you -”

“ _\- heard everything that was said and done on this ship in the last forty-five minutes, yes, including -_ ”

“All right, all right, we get it,” says Sara, cutting her off before she can say anything else. “So what is it? And don’t say Rory is in jail.”

“ _Actually, the transmission is from Dr Palmer, who along with Professor Stein and Mr Jackson are currently occupying a jail cell. Mr Rory’s whereabouts are currently unknown._ ”

Sara sighs at the same time as Rip.

“Come on, let’s go to the fabricator,” Rip says, offering his hand to Sara, and after a moment Sara takes it, rolling her eyes but somehow still with a smile on her face.

“I’m thinking - we could FBI our way out,” Sara says.

“You know me too well,” he says, not breaking his stride, and Sara watches him, all brisk and yet still with more than a glimmer of warmth in him than she has ever seen before.

And then he glances back at her, unuttered forevers on his tongue, and she says quickly, “We’ll talk properly. I promise. Just not right now.”

She squeezes his hand and he squeezes back, nodding, and as they devise a plan to help save their family together, Sara inwardly breathes a sigh of relief .

(Maybe that means she can have an after now too.)

**Author's Note:**

> So what did you think? I wrote this a few weeks ago now, but it's only now that I'm finding the time to put it on AO3. I kind of struggled with it a lot, so I would really appreciate your thoughts if this fic is one you liked. Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
